


None So Bright

by zelda_zee



Category: Lost
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_zee/pseuds/zelda_zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I always did like flowers," said the Lion. "They seem so helpless and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright as these."  ~ The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum</p>
            </blockquote>





	None So Bright

In retrospect, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, Sawyer thought, as he looked around him, trying to get his bearings. They probably should have told the others where they were going and they probably shouldn’t have taken Juliet’s word for it that the supply cache would be easy to find, and they probably shouldn’t have kept going when it became clear that they were lost. But what the hell was he supposed to do? Sayid, that stubborn sonuvabitch, had insisted that he knew exactly where they were and had forged ahead, leaving Sawyer to follow or turn back on his own. So, he followed, still not sure why. It was hard not to follow Sayid.

Anyway, the guy was better company than pretty much anyone back at the beach, so Sawyer figured if he was going to be lost with someone he could do worse. Not a chatterbox, that was for sure. Only talked when he actually had something to say. Sawyer, who made it a practice to speak as often as possible but most particularly when he had nothing to say, appreciated that economy in others.

Funny thing, to consider Sayid good company, after how they’d started out. It seemed so long ago, though it was barely a couple of months. So much had changed since then. Now Sayid was someone he almost trusted. He’d even go so far as to say they’d reached an understanding of sorts. At any rate, Sawyer figured he had a pretty clear idea of who good ol’ Ali was, and after Juliet going and spilling the beans, Sayid knew plenty of ugly stuff about him too. Guess that made them even.

Nope, it definitely hadn’t been a good idea to keep going, he thought, as he scanned the area for signs of Sayid, looking for his dark shape amongst the expanse of meadow-green flora that stretched out before him. Sawyer was standing at the edge of a huge field of what looked like poppies – tall, bright green weeds with bulbous pods and long, serrated leaves. The whole field seemed about to burst into bloom, a myriad of bulbous-topped strands waving in the light breeze, but for now the pods were furled tightly closed. He wondered what color the flowers would be when they opened.

Sayid had disappeared. One moment he’d been wading through the waist-high foliage and the next he was gone without a trace. Sawyer hesitated before plunging in after him, some instinct making him hesitate. The plants were so green, unnaturally so, as if they’d been painted with a child’s paint set. And there was no sound of bird or insect, even though he’d have expected it in this wide-open space. His senses were honed from three months on the island, and now he knew what to listen for. Silence always meant something, and usually it wasn’t something good. And then there was the way Sayid had simply vanished. Sawyer's gut clenched, telling him to run. But, Sayid. He couldn’t leave him.

He snorted angrily and moved forward into the field, stepping carefully, not knowing whether to expect the earth to open beneath him or some monster to rear up and drag him down. He could see where the plants had been disturbed by Sayid’s passage. Sawyer was shit at tracking, but even he could follow the path of broken stalks and waist-high shoots that had been trampled underfoot.

He was about a third of the way across the meadow when he found Sayid, sprawled on the ground, hidden by the tall plants. He knelt down at his side, dread twisting in his stomach. Sawyer could see that he was shivering, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. He looked flushed too, his skin a hue darker than usual. His eyes were closed, his eyeballs rolling around behind his lids.

“Sayid,” Sawyer hissed, patting his cheek none too gently. “Wake up. Hey, man, c’mon, snap out of it.”

Sayid moaned. Sawyer slapped him lightly across the face. “Hey!” he said, louder. “Sayid!”

Sayid slowly opened his eyes, his lashes fluttering, and blinked a few times, obviously trying to focus. He licked his lips and tried to speak, but only a croak came out. Sawyer unscrewed the cap to his water bottle and propped Sayid’s head up so he could drink. When he was done, Sayid’s head fell back heavily onto Sawyer’s lap. One hand came up and pawed weakly at Sawyer’s shirt, trying to pull him closer, so Sawyer leaned down, bringing his ear to Sayid’s mouth.

“Careful,” Sayid rasped. His voice sounded strange. Throaty and hoarse. Sawyer hoped he wasn’t having an allergic reaction because if Sayid’s throat closed up he’d have to… No, better not to think about that, not yet.

“I think -” Sayid's fingers tightened in Sawyer’s shirt as tremors wracked his body. “The plants. Be careful of the plants.” Sawyer felt his whole body grow cold. He looked up at the strange, prehistoric-looking weeds all around them, pressing in, looming over him as he knelt on the ground. They were _everywhere_.

Sayid swallowed with difficulty. “I… I… Sawyer.” He gulped in a ragged breath. “Do not open the pods. I opened – and – ahh!” He shuddered violently. Sawyer put a hand to Sayid’s forehead. He was burning up. “I just wanted to – to – to see what was inside.” He stared up at Sawyer, his eyes glassy. He was breathing hard, panting, and the sweat was beading up and running down, not just a fine sheen anymore. “Don’t –” Sayid grimaced as if he was in pain. “Don’t leave me here.” He looked up and Sawyer was taken aback to see the pleading in his expression. He pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t leave Sayid, of course he wouldn’t. He guessed it wasn’t much of surprise that Sayid wouldn’t know that though.

“Shhh, Ali. I ain’t gonna leave you.” Sawyer got to his feet and scanned the field. Nothing moving, nothing suspicious. Just an expanse of very green weeds topped with fat, bulbous very green pods. “Can you stand?” he squatted down, trying to help Sayid to his feet, but it was hopeless. He was too weak and uncoordinated, nearly unconscious, mumbling and moaning and still shivering and hot. In the end Sawyer shouldered his pack and stuck his machete in his belt and picked Sayid up and carried him, trying to step carefully with an extra 170 lbs. of twitching, shuddering Iraqi slung over one shoulder. Sawyer kept his eyes on the ground and moved slowly, praying that he didn’t break open any of those damned buds.

At the other side of the field was a couple miles of steep, dense jungle that they’d just hacked their way through. He couldn’t carry Sayid back through that. And it was getting dark. They were fucked for tonight, so the best Sawyer could do was find a likely camping spot.

It was easy to find the way they'd come. Sayid seemed to take a cruel joy in destroying jungle vegetation with his machete, so their passage was well-marked. A few hundred yards along he found a clearing that was open enough to build a fire and for the two of them to stretch out comfortably. He lay Sayid down on a grassy spot and unzipped his pack. Of course Sawyer hadn’t thought to bring blankets or warm clothes, since this was supposed to be a quick jaunt to the supply cache and back. He had a flannel shirt and he pulled that out. Sayid, of course, was wearing only his usual sleeveless undershirt. Sawyer doubted he had even laid claim to any other sort of shirt. He’d certainly never seen Sayid in anything else.

He went over to where Sayid lay, curled up in a fetal position, his hands clutched around his middle.

“C’mon,” he murmured, helping Sayid to sit up. “Just gonna put this on you. Help me out here.” Sayid lay limply against him, his head lolling against Sawyer’s chest. He was hot, so hot. His hair tickled Sawyer’s neck, surprisingly soft as he manipulated Sayid’s arms, pushing them into the sleeves of the shirt.

“Nooo,” Sayid whined. “Hot.” It almost made Sawyer smile despite his worry, to hear Sayid whine. It was such an unexpected thing, coming from him.

“I know,” Sawyer said, resolutely tugging the shirt closed and buttoning it up. “You’re feverish. Just don’t want you to get chilled.”

“Sawyer,” Sayid moaned, pressing his face to the crook of Sawyer’s neck. “I need –” He drew a great, rasping breath. “Don’t go.” Sawyer could feel Sayid’s mouth, open and damp, blowing hot breath against his skin. There was a smell clinging to him that reminded Sawyer of the taste of dry spices on his tongue. Something powdery and pungent, foreign and exotic. He inhaled deeply and felt his body heat.

Oh hell.

This was not the time for _that_.

“Okay,” he said, smoothing a hand awkwardly over Sayid’s hair. God, it was like silk, smooth and sleek. He’d always thought it might feel coarse somehow, being so kinky and full. “Okay. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re gonna be okay.”

Fuck, he hoped Sayid was going to be okay. He didn’t have a clue, and he wished like hell Jack was here. He’d know what to do. Sawyer sat there for a moment, thinking about Jack, trying to think like Jack, his hand moving slowly, repetitively over Sayid’s head, mumbling _okay, you’re gonna be okay_ over and over. The touch seemed to calm Sayid and some of the trembling left his limbs and he slumped more heavily against Sawyer.

Okay, first off, assess how well they were provisioned. He unzipped Sayid’s pack and started digging around inside. He had to repress a chuckle. Wouldn’t you know it? He pulled out an airplane blanket, a light tarp, a first aid kit, two bottles of water, two vacuum-packed Dharma brand MREs, four energy bars, a rain poncho, one of Locke’s particularly scary-looking knives, a flashlight and an extra pair of socks. Funny guy, that Sayid, taking all that shit out on what was supposed to be an afternoon’s hike. Smart, Sawyer acknowledged. Must be the military training. All Sawyer had was a bottle of water, the shirt Sayid was wearing and a single energy bar.

He made Sayid swallow two Tylenols, spread out the tarp and moved him onto it, folded the rain poncho under his head for a pillow, wrapped him in the blanket, ignoring his mewl of protest, left a water bottle within easy reach and went in search of firewood.

By the time it was dark he had a fire going and enough wood stacked up to keep them warm through the night. It didn’t get that cold really, just chilly enough to be uncomfortable without a fire. Sayid was laying on his side, shivering again, mumbling in his own language, or at least that’s what Sawyer assumed. Either that or else he was totally incoherent.

There really wasn’t anything else to do, so Sawyer studied his face in the light of the fire. His skin shone with sweat, glistening in a troubling golden hue, as if his perspiration was tinted. It looked slightly iridescent and it made him look - well, it should have made him look sick, but the fact was that it looked rather... interesting. It made Sawyer think of the powdery gold of pollen and how when it got on your skin it would stain, even if you tried to wash it off.

Sayid's mouth was slightly open and Sawyer could hear him breathing, deep and a little fast. As he watched, Sayid’s expression changed, his mouth opening wider, his eyes squeezing more tightly shut, a crease appearing in his forehead. His head tilted back a bit and he groaned, long and low and his body _undulated_. There was no other word for it.

Sawyer’s eyes widened and he swallowed. It couldn’t be – it looked like – but it couldn’t be. He must be in pain.

Sawyer crawled over to him and put his hand on Sayid’s shoulder, intending to give him a little shake, but at his touch, Sayid’s eyes snapped open and focused on him intently. They were wide and clear and very dark and suddenly Sayid didn’t look sick at all, he looked _strange_. Strange and strangely beautiful, with his hair spread out in an inky halo around his head and his skin darkly glowing and his eyes big pools of glinting shadow and his lips curving upward in what had to be a smile, but what a smile - slow and seductive and _so_ inviting. Sawyer watched him in confusion, feeling drawn in by the heat he could feel emanating from the body beneath him and by the smell of spice, a sudden flavor blooming on his tongue, rich and exotic and as dry as dust.

Sayid’s eyes slid to the side, to look at Sawyer’s hand still resting on his shoulder. Suddenly self-conscious, Sawyer lifted it away.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You look…” Better didn’t quite cover it. Sayid looked _different_. “Um. How're you doing?"

Sawyer wasn’t prepared for what happened next, for Sayid surging up and pulling him down on top of him and holding him there with surprising strength as he arched and rubbed against him, his lithe, wiry body all hard muscle and damp, hot skin, and that smell, sweet and spice and musk, and for a crazy second Sawyer wanted nothing more than to push Sayid down on the ground and grind down onto him, but then he felt Sayid’s cock, hard as iron between them even through the bunched up airplane blanket as Sayid thrust frantically against his thigh.

“Whoa there,” Sawyer said, struggling to free himself. Sayid twined himself around Sawyer, arms and legs wrapping around and hanging on, moaning wantonly. “Holy shit, just – now hold on – lemme go, damn you. Sayid, knock it off.” Sawyer got an arm free and grabbed one of Sayid’s wrists, twisting it around behind his back, surprised at how easy it was. He knew Sayid well enough to know he never went easy in a fight, yet now he just melted and let Sawyer flip him face down and hold him there.

Careful, Sawyer reminded himself. He’s probably just delirious. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Doesn’t know what he’s doing.

And then Sayid arched determinedly up, his ass wriggling against Sawyer’s groin, rubbing against him, reminding Sawyer of nothing so much as a cat in heat, and that thought sent a flood of arousal through him and he felt himself responding, felt his cock twitch against Sayid’s ass and Sayid felt it too, because he groaned low in his throat and flexed up again.

Sawyer let go of Sayid’s wrist and sprang back safely out of reach, trying to catch his breath and wrap his mind around what the hell was going on. Sayid sat up, his movements slow and languid. He didn’t look sick anymore, but he didn’t look well either. His skin seemed flushed, though it was hard to tell by firelight, with him so dark. He shone with sweat and it gleamed, almost like the phosphorescence that they’d sometimes see on the waves. His eyes too, they looked unnatural. Sayid’s eyes were always dark, but now… nothing but black. Sawyer wondered if his pupils were dilated, couldn’t tell by the firelight, but that put him in mind of how those plants looked like poppies, and if they were poppies then Sayid could be drugged and if it was a drug it would wear off eventually, and that was slightly encouraging. He just had to make sure Sayid was okay until he came down. Then, if Sawyer was right, he should be back to his normal self.

But his self at the moment was anything but normal because he was - “Sayid – oh, that’s – just. Whoa there, buddy.”

Sayid had slipped out of Sawyer’s flannel shirt and was stripping off his undershirt and unzipping his khakis and Jesus, his skin really looked amazing with that gold cast to it. Sawyer had never seen anything like it, warm caramel-brown glowing so strangely golden. It made him want to touch, to see if that faint gold sheen would rub off like powder on his fingers. He could see the hard line of Sayid’s erection straining against the fabric of his pants and oh Christ, this was some kind of fucked up, that was for sure.

“Look, I’d better just give you some privacy,” Sawyer said, except he knew better than to leave Sayid alone - not with him tripping his brains out on Craphole Island’s own native aphrodisiac. Sawyer averted his eyes fast when Sayid shoved a hand down inside his pants with a groan, his hips hitching up and his head falling back. Sawyer turned away, staring into the darkness of the jungle, but every atom of his awareness was on the man behind him.

He winced when he heard Sayid gasp, knowing he’d taken hold of himself, picturing it, willing himself not to turn around and look. Jesus, Sayid was going to kill him when he came down, he was going to fucking kill him for having witnessed this, for having heard… Sayid was making a lot of noise, cursing and panting and moaning and now there was the wet sound of skin on skin. Sawyer squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore his dick, which had decided to spite him and all of his good intentions by getting harder and harder the noisier Sayid got. Sawyer wanted to stick his fingers in his ears, but he didn’t dare. It was bad enough not to be keeping an eye on Sayid when he was in this state, it would be too dangerous to not be able to hear him either. But how long was it going to go on? It seemed like hours had passed, sitting there listening to him with no evident… conclusion to the proceedings.

Sawyer stiffened, realizing suddenly that it was quiet. No moaning, no panting. He turned around with a jerk, fearing that Sayid would be gone or keeled over dead or something, and he nearly jumped out of his skin to see him right behind him, inches away, naked, skin and eyes glowing preternaturally and his dick jutting out, darkly purple, shining with slick wetness and looking so hard and swollen that Sawyer’s cock throbbed in sympathy.

Sayid was on him then, straddling him, pushing him down until Sawyer’s back hit the trunk of tree.

“I cannot,” Sayid said, and God, his voice was wrecked, scratchy and broken. “I cannot, no matter how much I –” He wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled. “I need,” he looked at Sawyer, his eyes burning fierce and feral. “I need to, or I think, I think – I don’t know what will happen. Sawyer, you have to.”

Sawyer’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. It wasn’t that he had a problem doing it. Hell, he’d done that and more, lots more. He just had a problem doing it with Sayid, who was repressed as hell, from a part of the world that didn't look too kindly on such things between men and, as far as Sawyer knew, completely straight, not to mention the whole issue of Sayid hunting him down and skinning him alive or maybe breaking out the bamboo again once he came down from this little trip.

“You ever done anything with guys?” he asked, trying to sound in control and responsible, not easy with a naked, tripping man sitting on his lap sporting a raging hard-on. “Cuz if you haven’t I ain’t sure I’m the one you wanna be experimentin’ with.”

“I don't care,” said Sayid, confirming what Sawyer had suspected. “Please, Sawyer. It does not work when I - it feels - Here,” he took Sawyer's hand and pressed it to his chest, over his heart. Sawyer could feel it hammering against his palm, beating alarmingly fast. "I don't know what will happen if I don't..." His eyes fell closed. "Sawyer, don't make me beg."

Sayid's eyes opened and his stared into Sawyer's, his dark gaze so intense and compelling. "I need your hands on me."

Oh, Christ. Sawyer’s fingers twitched. He wanted to. He was using all his willpower not to and Sayid was making it just about as difficult as he possibly could.

“Now, look,” Sawyer said, going for stern. “You know you’re just stoned outta your mind on that poppy shit you got a whiff of, right?” Sayid nodded, but he didn’t stop rocking on Sawyer's lap, and now he started whimpering, a small, desperate sound that went straight to Sawer’s dick. “When you come down,” Sawyer plowed ahead, “you’re gonna be pissed as hell if I go ahead and do this. You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“No,” Sayid said desperately. “I promise. I swear. I swear on the Qu’ran, I won’t. Please, just, just.” Sayid leaned forward, bringing his face close to Sawyer’s. His hand gripped Sawyer’s neck. “You don’t know how this feels. It feels like I will _die_. I cannot endure it.” He shuddered wretchedly. “Damn you, Sawyer. This is no time to develop scruples.”

Sawyer swore under his breath. “Fine! Fine, have it your way. But I’m gonna hold you to that promise,” Sawyer glared into Sayid’s eyes. This close he could see that the pupils were blown wide, totally obscuring the brown iris. “After this is over, you'd better remember that I only did this cuz you fuckin' begged me for it.”

He stripped off his shirt because he had a suspicion this was going to get messy. At the touch of his hand, Sayid made a strangled noise and lurched forward and Sawyer suddenly had a whole lot of burning hot, writhing man plastered against him. Sayid’s cock quivered like a live thing in Sawyer’s hand, searing his palm, hard and silky and wet and, damn, it felt really good. It'd been an awfully long time since he’d had anyone’s cock in his hand other than his own. He hissed when he felt Sayid’s tongue dragging over his neck, his teeth nipping along the muscle and he stroked him faster, harder, and Sayid stopped kissing him, just thrusting into his touch, fucking his fist and grunting softly against Sawyer’s neck, the sound rising in volume as he got closer.

“Fuck,” Sawyer panted. “Yeah, God, yeah. Just – c’mon. C’mon, let it go.” He slid his other hand down around Sayid’s balls, Christ, flat and hard as two rocks in his palm and squeezed and Sayid screamed. Holy Christ, he really fucking screamed – hips thrusting mindlessly, his fingers digging into Sawyer’s neck and arm hard enough to bruise. Sawyer felt teeth in his bad shoulder, a shock of pain, hot stripes landing on his stomach, his chest, Jesus, even his neck and his chin. Sayid was sobbing, coming completely unglued, moaning and keening and sounding like he was in pain and like it had never felt so good. Sawyer just kept stroking him, starting to feel alarmed when it went on and on, far longer than could be considered normal, until finally, _finally_ Sayid quieted a bit, leaning limply against Sawyer and panting harshly. His cock in Sawyer’s hand was still as hard as steel.

Sawyer ran his hand down Sayid’s back from his neck to his tailbone, stopping there. He wanted to go further, wanted to slide his palm down over that muscular ass and delve into those secret places where – Sawyer bit his lip at the thought – where no one had ever before touched. It was almost too much to imagine it, with him still hard in his jeans and Sayid resting across him, naked and clinging and still hard as well. Sawyer wondered if maybe he’d be up for another round – a more mutually satisfying round this time.

In for a penny, in for a pound, Sawyer figured. The damage was done. It was likely Sayid would kill him for this much despite what he’d sworn, so he might as well make it count.

His hand tightened on Sayid’s cock, all wet and slippery now. He intended to make some comment about twofers and the apparent myth of the refractory period when Sayid drew back and looked at Sawyer for a long moment and he was so stunning that it took the words right out of Sawyer’s mouth. He looked debauched and unreal, like something from the far reaches of Sawyer’s most pornographic and obscene imaginings, staring at him with a sex-glazed expression, his lips full and flushed, his eyes dark and lustful. And then he leaned forward and licked Sawyer’s jaw and down his neck and lower, lapping at his chest and stomach, licking up the come he’d splattered there.

Sawyer shivered and stared as Sayid painted his nipples with little kitten-licks, then took one in his mouth, sucking with a quiet moan. This was… not the kind of behavior one expects from a man who’s never fooled around with guys before. For a moment, Sawyer was envious of Sayid’s altered state, although it was probably lucky for Sayid that he’d been the one to get dosed and not the other way around. He doubted Sayid would have enjoyed having to deal with Sawyer all jacked up on island aphrodisiac, not if he was in his right mind.

But now, Sayid was tugging the buttons of Sawyer’s jeans free, and a part of him was crowing _oh thank fuck_ and another (smaller) part of him was freaking the fuck out.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice cracking. “You sure you wanna do that? Sayid, hey!” That got his attention. Sayid looked up at him with a hopeful little whine and licked his lips lasciviously, totally lost to the high. Sawyer sighed. “Okay, yeah I know.” He put his fingers beneath Sayid’s chin and tilted his face up to meet his eyes. “But there’s a point where there’s gonna be no turnin’ back, you get me? And that point – well, it looks like it could come sooner rather than later. You ready for that? Cuz if you don’t wanna go there, I’ll jerk you off again, same as before and we don’t have to do anything else.”

“No,” Sayid said, not looking away. “I want more.”

“More?”

“Yes,” Sayid’s fingers tightened, gripping the denim of Sawyer’s jeans. “I need more. It’s not enough. Not. Enough.” He ground his hard on against Sawyer’s leg for emphasis. “I need you to give me more.”

Sawyer thought fast. He was going to have to be the one in control, the one to step on the brakes, because at the moment it was clear that Sayid didn’t have any brakes to step on. It was an odd position to find himself in. At least he was plenty experienced keeping his head during sex. He’d had a lifetime to perfect the technique. He could do this.

"We'll only do what you want,” Sawyer said. “You have to ask for anything you want.” His thumb smoothed over the line of Sayid’s jaw, the soft hairs of his beard scratching and tickling. “I have to know you really want it.”

Sayid gave him a dark, knowing smile and rubbed his cock hard against Sawyer’s leg again. “You are going to make me beg?” Whereas before Sayid had balked at the idea, now he sounded like he might not mind it at all, a clear indication of how far gone he was.

“That’s not –” Sawyer hissed as Sayid’s hand, warm and rough, delved into his fly and wrapped around his cock. “That’s not what I meant. But – _ohh_ \- beggin’ would work. Beggin’ would totally work.”

“I want –” Sayid’s voice was as warm and rough as his hand which was tight around Sawyer’s dick, jerking him slowly and a bit awkwardly, and Sawyer wasn’t sure if that was due to inexperience or to the way Sayid was squirming around on top of him and humping his leg with a focus that surely wasn’t leaving a lot of room for other thoughts. “Mouth,” Sayid gasped, rolling his hips, his cock digging into Sawyer’s thigh. “You – I want to – want to –” Sawyer looked down, past Sayid’s heaving chest his tensed stomach muscles. His cock was pressed to Sawyer’s leg and all he could see was dark hair and shadow and a sizeable wet spot on his jeans. He glanced up and Sayid met his eyes.

“Mmph,” said Sawyer, his hips jerking at that look, so hungry and – and - _determined_.

“I want,” Sayid murmured, rubbing his entire body on Sawyer’s – hot, smooth skin meeting all along the length of their torsos. Sawyer’s hands slid over Sayid’s sides to his back. “I _want_ ,” Sayid moaned, pressing closer. Sawyer could feel his heart thudding against his chest. “I want your - _ahhh_ \- your cock in my – my m-mouth.”

Sawyer heard it then, under the surface – a grain of hesitation, or possibly fear. Sayid was asking for it like Sawyer had told him to, but Sawyer wasn’t convinced that he knew what he really wanted. There was what the drug was demanding and then there was Sayid, and Sawyer was pretty damned certain there were some strict prohibitions in Sayid’s culture about doing that, putting your mouth on another man’s dick.

“No,” he growled, grabbing a thick hank of hair in his fist and pulling Sayid away. Sayid watched him, wide-eyed and panting and looking rather terrified. “No, I want _your_ cock in _my_ mouth,” and he flipped them so Sayid sprawled out beneath him and before he had a chance to protest Sawyer scooted back and swallowed him down.

Sayid arched up, shaking as if he had a live wire running through him, his hips twisting and thrusting, his hands sliding into Sawyer’s hair and holding on. He made a high-pitched keening sound, his breath wheezing in and out between clenched teeth. Sawyer shifted around a bit to get a better angle and drew off, inhaling and swallowing. Sayid tasted good. It was that spice taste, a little sweet and little savory, and then the salt and bitter mixed in as well. Sawyer wanted more of it. He took Sayid in as deep as he could, his tongue pressing firmly along the thick vein that he could feel throbbing in time with the fast beat of Sayid's heart, and sucked hard. His hands gripped Sayid’s waist, tilting him forward and Sayid bucked, his hips snapping up and his cock sliding deep. Sawyer breathed, inhaling sweat and musk and spice, and opened his throat and just let it happen. Sayid was crying out, broken sounds that Sawyer couldn’t understand, and that he doubted were words in any language. He slid his hands under Sayid’s ass and lifted him, stroked with his thumbs behind his balls, over the delicate skin there, so soft, so soft. Sayid’s hands tightened in his hair, pulling too hard, his foot caught Sawyer with a kick to his ribs but it didn’t matter because having Sayid like this, desperate and wild and out of his mind, was so fucking hot that Sawyer was about ready to come in his jeans. He reached down, shoving a hand into his boxers, and right then Sayid convulsed and arched up harder, higher than before, wailing and coming and coming and coming, spurting a torrent into Sawyer’s mouth, too much, too fast, he couldn’t swallow it all and he had to let some run out, run down Sayid’s dick and pool at the base. He sucked and licked and slurped and Sayid was trembling and his cock was still spasming and still – oh God – still hard and Sawyer had his hand around his own dick and in just a second, just a second –

Sayid suddenly pulled away and scrambled up, pushing Sawyer onto his back and then his mouth was on Sawyer’s and it was a complete shock to be kissing Sayid; even after what they’d just done it was a shock to feel Sayid’s mouth on his. Sawyer reached up to push him away, because that’s not what this was about, this was about taking care of a need, not about anything that involved kissing, for Christ’s sake. But Sayid’s tongue pushed into his mouth, licking into every corner, avidly, hungrily, and Sawyer knew Sayid’s taste was there and knowing that he wanted that, that he was searching for it, was so damned lewd and wrong and dirty that he couldn’t help moaning and pulling Sayid closer.

Sayid reared back and stripped Sawyer’s jeans the rest of the way off, cursing impatiently when they got stuck on his boots. Sawyer leaned up on his elbows and watched Sayid wrestle his boots off, and his socks, and then finally, with a triumphant flourish, his jeans. It would almost be funny, except that the single-minded effort that he put into getting Sawyer naked was making his stomach do flips and his cock twitch.

Sayid crawled up his body, looking like nothing so much as some kind of graceful jungle cat, and lowered himself until their bodies were touching from their chests to their toes. He was a hot weight - a hot, heavy, naked weight. Sawyer ran his hands over his back, his sides and, oh yeah, down over his ass, palming his cheeks, his thumbs sliding along his cleft. Sayid made a funny, surprised sound and froze and Sawyer squeezed and rocked up so their cocks slid against each other, pulling Sayid down to meet him.

“That’s right, that’s good,” Sawyer murmured, as Sayid squirmed and thrust on top of him. “So good, you’re - _ahhh_ \- doin' fine. Oh god, yeah, like that, do it like that.”

Sayid rested his forehead on Sawyer’s shoulder and worked his hips in a fast, merciless rhythm and Sawyer spread his legs and dug his fingers into Sayid’s ass and held on as he let Sayid push him closer and closer to the edge.

In the end, it was the choked hitch in Sayid’s voice and the way he groaned as if he was giving up his very soul and the hot, plashing bath of spunk that spewed over Sawyer’s cock and onto his belly that made him lose it. He came hard, making raw, animal noises, the contractions in his cock and his balls so deep they almost hurt. For a second everything whited out, sound and sight gone and it was all just sensation, sparkling bursts of pleasure that sharpened and then gradually faded. When he came back into his body with a gasp, Sayid was tensed and trembling on top of him, still thrusting weakly. Sawyer pushed him over onto his back, wrapped a hand around his cock and jerked him off again, a dozen strokes and he was coming all over himself as if he hadn’t just done the same thing a moment before.

Sawyer thought about doing it again, because Sayid’s cock was stiff and hot in his hand and showing no signs of wilting, but one look at his face, at the tears trickling out of the corners of his eyes and the sweat shining on his skin and the way he was breathing so fast and shallow made him pause.

Sayid opened his eyes (dark, so dark) and stared at him hazily. Another tear rolled down his cheek. Sawyer had no idea if Sayid was even aware that he was crying, whether it was a physiological reaction or some sort of emotional response. He hoped like hell it was the former, because he really didn’t want to think that underneath the sex-crazed high, Sayid was upset enough about this to cry.

“Sawyer,” he whispered. He cleared his throat but his voice was still hoarse. “Sawyer. What is happening to me?”

Sawyer leaned up over him on one elbow. He had the strongest urge to wipe those tears away, but he held back.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, hoping he was speaking the truth. “It’ll wear off and you’ll be right as rain and you and I will… we’ll…” He stopped, unsure of how the hell the two of them would deal with this after the fact. “Well, we’ll figure that out when the time comes.”

“I feel funny,” Sayid said. He was shifting restlessly as if he couldn’t hold still.

“You look funny,” said Sawyer.

“I do? What do you mean?”

“You’re all –” Sawyer gestured wordlessly at Sayid’s body, not knowing how to explain about the eyes and the shine and the smell and about how that poppy had somehow transformed the most tight-assed, reserved guy on the entire island into a lustful, uninhibited harlot. “You’re all covered in come,” he said finally, side-stepping the topic.

“Yesss.” Sayid drew his fingertips through the mess on his stomach and chest, then brought them to his mouth licking them one at a time. “Mmmm,” he closed his eyes, humming happily. Sawyer’s cock twitched.

Sayid’s eyes opened and he watched Sawyer for a moment as he sucked on his pinkie. “This is not normal for me, is it?”

Sawyer’s eyebrows shot up. “Not exactly, no."

“I don’t think I care,” Sayid said. He slid closer to Sawyer. “No, I don’t think I care at all. Because I feel so _good_. So. Fucking. _Good_.” His hand roamed across his own chest, plucked at a hard nipple. He closed his eyes, arching into the touch and Sawyer watched, fascinated. “I need _more_ ,” Sayid murmured.

“You’re fuckin’ greedy,” Sawyer said as he pulled Sayid closer.

“I don’t care,” Sayid insisted. “Touch me. Make me come again.”

“Demanding, too,” Sawyer murmured, burying his face in Sayid’s neck and inhaling.

“I need it,” Sayid gasped, writhing against him. “So, so, so much. Do it, touch me.”

“Bossy,” Sawyer breathed, his hand closing around Sayid’s dick, stroking and lowering them both onto the ground and Sayid groaned as if his world was coming apart.

“I like that,” Sayid purred, licking and nipping along Sawyer’s jaw back to his ear. “You’re good at that. I like - _ohhh_ \- that, what you did right there. Do that again.” Sayid raised his leg, wrapping it around Sawyer’s waist and it was far too much temptation for a man such as Sawyer, who was finding that good intentions were no match for the reality of greedy, demanding, bossy Sayid, who was urging him with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock and every low, wicked word that passed his lips to do anything he wanted, that he would find pleasure in whatever Sawyer wanted to do to him, and Sawyer was finding that there were a great many things that he wanted to do to Sayid, more than he had ever imagined, and he had to admit that he had indeed imagined a few.

He released Sayid’s cock and brought his hand to his mouth and traced the pouty, swollen bottom lip with two fingers. Sayid inhaled sharply and his mouth opened and Sawyer pushed his fingers inside, into wet, molten heat. His cock gave another twitch and started to fill as Sayid sucked, his eyes burning into Sawyer’s, panting fast and licking frantically.

Sawyer withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his mouth, kissing Sayid forcefully, thrusting his tongue in and savoring that sweet, spicy taste and the warm, wet, welcoming flesh and the muscular tongue twining with his, and Sayid kissed him back helplessly, as if there weren’t anything else he could do, and, Sawyer guessed, in his current state there probably wasn’t.

Sayid was whimpering and moaning and shoving their hips together, so he didn’t notice as Sawyer snuck his hand over his leg where it was bent up and curled around Sawyer’s hip, Sayid’s heel digging into the back of his thigh, over his hip and down until it came to rest in the warm, smooth valley between his cheeks, right on the tight little pucker that Sawyer felt get instantaneously tighter beneath the pad of his fingertip.

“Mmph!” Sayid protested against Sawyer’s mouth, his whole body going rigid. “Nunh!”

“Shhh,” Sawyer said, drawing back just far enough to speak. He had Sayid’s knee clamped under his arm and he was trying to jerk it free, and eventually he’d be successful, but Sawyer was counting on it not taking too terribly long to convince Sayid to give this new experience a chance. He drew a circle with his fingers over the muscle, nice and slow. “Easy,” he coaxed. “This can be good too, you’ll see. Just relax and give it a try. If you don’t like it, I’ll quit,” but he could already see Sayid’s eyes becoming glassy and unfocused and his lids wanting to close and he felt a twinge of guilt at breaking his own rule about making Sayid ask first, but how was he supposed to know to ask for something if he’d never done it before? Watching him now, Sawyer was amazed at how little effort it took, how Sayid didn’t have even the weakest bit of defense left to him. Everything had been stripped away by the simple act of sniffing an innocent-looking flower.

He’d let me do anything, Sawyer thought. _Anything_. Fuck him until he bled or use his mouth like a back alley whore or _anything_. He could do it and Sayid wouldn’t stop him and what’s more he’d _love_ it.

It was a dangerous kind of power and not the sort of thing Sawyer had a history of resisting successfully. He thought briefly of Sayid and all the things that had happened between them, and about how revenge could come in many guises, and something black stirred down inside him in the murky depths of his soul.

And then he opened his eyes and looked at Sayid’s face, so open and vulnerable, eyelashes fluttering and lips trembling, and he pushed those dark impulses resolutely behind him. That wasn’t how this was going to go. It might not be all hearts and flowers, but it wasn’t going to be ugly either.

He pushed a finger inside, slowly, gently. So hot, so tight. “Relax,” he whispered and Sayid did, just a bit, taking a shuddering breath. Sawyer kissed him again and Sayid’s lips parted immediately, his mouth soft and pliant and Sawyer wanted to just sink into it, wanted to drink down that sweetness and swallow that spice and just lose himself. He slid a hand beneath Sayid’s head and kissed him, slowly fucking his finger in and out all the while, Sayid whimpering into his mouth until he pulled back with a shivery indrawn breath.

“Sawyer, please,” Sayid whispered, his voice shot through with lust. He was shaking, trembling in every limb. “I need to come. Please.”

“I know. S’okay. This’ll work.” He pulled his finger out and spat onto his fingertips, smearing it around. “On your back.”

“I do not think –”

“Don’t you wanna try something new?” Sawyer grinned at him.

Sayid blinked, looking puzzled at something he saw in Sawyer’s expression. But he rolled onto his back and hesitatingly spread his legs.

“Trust me,” Sawyer said, positioning himself and nudging Sayid’s leg up. “You’ll like it. I promise.” He pressed two fingers against the opening, carefully, little pushes, each one a bit deeper. Sayid was breathing hard, his eyes half-closed. His cock was the same as before, swollen and leaking and flushed and looking every second as if it were about to explode from the pressure building up behind it.

“Sawyer, wait.” Sayid clutched at him, rolling his hips. “I want – oh, I want –”

Sawyer concentrated on what he was searching for, feeling and reaching and crooking his fingers and it should be right – ah yes - _there_.

Sayid gasped raggedly and arched, his eyes wide and astonished. He stared at Sawyer as if mesmerized, but Sawyer thought maybe Sayid wasn’t seeing him at all. His mouth moved like he was trying to speak, but all he said was _unh – unh – unh_. Sawyer rubbed over that place again and Sayid squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, his body vibrating with coiled energy, his flesh clenching and quivering around Sawyer’s fingers. Sayid spread his legs wider and Sawyer threw a leg over one and clamped it between his own and humped it, careful not to come – unlike Sayid he had to save something for later – but just enough to take the edge off.

He rubbed and stroked inside Sayid’s body, spread his fingers wide and turned his hand, and Sayid bore down and moaned, working himself onto the fingers penetrating him. He bent his other leg, spreading, offering himself and looked at Sawyer out of lost eyes and said in a hoarse, shattered voice, “You know what I need. Sawyer – I need you – need you to - _ahhh_!”

Sawyer didn’t think he was talking about another orgasm, but that’s what he gave him, with a wicked, grinding twist against his prostate. Sayid came on a broken sob, spilling a flood onto his belly, spurting again and again in time to the rhythm of Sawyer’s fingers inside him.

When Sayid opened his eyes, taking a long, shaky breath, Sawyer gave him an unrepentantly cocky grin.

“Told you it’d work.”

Sayid just groaned. In truth, Sawyer wouldn’t have counted on that little trick under normal circumstances, but then under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be laying here with his fingers up Sayid’s ass, so that was kind of a meaningless distinction.

He should really get Sayid cleaned up a bit and get some water into him. He was frankly a mess, sweaty and covered in come and probably getting pretty dehydrated with the rate of… fluid output he’d been achieving.

But maybe… before that, just one more. Sawyer found it hard to resist the urge, so as usual with difficult-to-resist urges, he didn’t even try. And that’s when it hit him that he _liked_ this. Not only did he not mind doing all this stuff to Sayid, he actually _wanted_ to. He wanted to do it all, this and more. Anything. Everything. He didn’t know if he should feel guilty about enjoying himself when Sayid was being compelled by some whacked-out hallucinogen and would never have found himself in this situation otherwise and who may be, on some level, unhappy about it and who will certainly be _very_ unhappy about it whenever the effects wear off. But Sawyer wasn’t one to fret over a situation that couldn’t be altered, and it seemed crystal to him that there was only one way through this and so why not enjoy it if they could? He had no doubt that once Sayid sobered up things were going to be unimaginably fucked up, but this right now – this was really good and he intended to make the most of it while it lasted.

He bent his head to Sayid’s cock and took the tip between his lips, sucking lightly, swirling his tongue over the smooth skin. It felt impossibly tight and stretched, thick and heavy in his mouth. Sayid breathed his name in a tone that suggested the deepest gratitude combined with ravenous desire. Sawyer hummed in response, which made Sayid squirm, then dragged his fingers through the slippery wetness on Sayid’s stomach, picking up a load of come and then some more. Sayid made an indescribable noise as Sawyer slid three fingers into him, easier now with the muscle relaxed and something to slick the way. Sawyer made sure his knuckle rubbed over just the perfect spot, not doubting that he’d got it right with the way Sayid moaned so enthusiastically every time, and concentrated on matching the rhythmic suction of his mouth with the steady fucking motion of his hand. He put his free hand flat on Sayid’s stomach, thinking maybe it would help ground him, because he seemed to be flying to pieces, crying out and writhing and shaking as if palsied. It surprised him when Sayid pressed a hand on top, his fingers lacing through Sawyer’s and hanging on tightly.

When he came, Sayid’s hand clenched his so hard that Sawyer grunted in pain around Sayid’s cock, but it went unnoticed. Sayid was too far gone to have any awareness of what was going on around him. Sawyer didn’t even try to swallow it all this time. He just wasn’t going to be able to manage a tidy blowjob with Sayid going off like a damned geyser every time he came.

He sat up and pushed the hair back from his face, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and contemplated Sayid. His head was back and his eyes closed, the lids twitching. His body seemed momentarily relaxed – though Sawyer knew by now that it wouldn’t last long – everything but his prick, which was hard as ever. Sawyer eyed it critically, sizing it up, so to speak. He wasn’t sure if the poppies had an effect on such a thing, but Sayid was… impressive. Not huge or anything, just – nice. A nice package, all ‘round, Sawyer thought.

Sayid rolled his hips, a slow sensual flexion. Sawyer glanced to his face and saw that Sayid was watching him steadily, that he’d caught him looking. Sawyer felt his face heat even though it was clear that Sayid had liked him looking, that it turned him on. Of course, everything turned him on at the moment, so that wasn’t really saying much.

“You want me,” Sayid said throatily.

Sawyer reached for a water bottle and handed it to Sayid. “Drink this.”

Said ignored it. “You want me,” he repeated, struggling up to an elbow. “You can have me. You can do whatever you want.” His eyes shone, wild and feverish. “Anything. Anything you want. If you want to fuck me –” he made an odd, strangled noise and wrapped a hand around his dick, shivering, his eyes falling closed. “You can. If – if you want that.” He stroked his cock, biting his lip. “I want it – I want –” He broke off and opened his eyes and before Sawyer knew what he was doing, Sayid’s hand was gripping him, fingers curled around his cock. “I want _this_. Inside me.” He made a low, guttural sound. “You said I have to ask. Will you – fuck me?”

Sawyer covered his hand with his own and with a supreme effort of will, lifted Sayid’s hand away.

“Drink this,” he said breathlessly, holding out the water bottle. “Every drop. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Sayid frowned at him, but he took the bottle and drank it down, only pausing once to take a breath, then tossed it aside and started to sit up.

“Good,” said Sawyer, laying his hand on Sayid’s shoulder and pushing him gently back to the ground. “Now.” He took a breath. “I ain’t gonna fuck you. No,” he held up a hand as Sayid opened his mouth to protest. “It ain’t open for discussion.”

“I _need_ it,” hissed Sayid, suddenly sounding angry. “You don’t understand!”

“I _do_ understand,” Sawyer contradicted putting his hand on Sayid’s cock and letting him thrust into it. “So you’re gonna fuck me.” Sayid’s eyes widened in surprise, the anger and frustration vanishing instantly.

“You – you would allow such a thing?”

Sawyer snorted. “ _You_ were offerin’ to let me,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but – but that is – _ohhh_ \- that is – it is hard to speak when you, oh, when you do that, Sawyer.” Sayid took a deep breath and exhaled with a helpless groan. “I offered – because I did not think you would a-a-allow me t-to –” Sayid gave up on speaking and just lay panting and gasping while Sawyer continued to stroke him. “Wait – wait –” Sawyer could see him struggling to put his thoughts into words. “You have done this before?”

“A time or two,” Sawyer admitted. It had maybe been a time or two more than a time or two, but he saw no reason to enumerate.

Sayid nodded, looking relieved.

“So, here’s the deal – Sayid.” Sawyer almost called him by one of his usual nicknames but thought better of it at the last moment. “I ain’t done this for a while and we don’t have lube, so we’re gonna do it my way, get it?” Sayid nodded, his eyes fixed on Sawyer’s face.

“Yes,” he said. “Anything, anything. Whatever you want.” Sayid was looking at him as if he wanted to devour him, as if he was going crazy with lust at the idea of fucking him, and Sawyer had to admit that it was a heady sensation, to be so avidly desired.

“Okay.” He looked around. The airplane blanket was balled up on the tarp. He crawled over and shook it out flat. “On this. I ain't gonna scrape my knees raw just for the hell of it.” Sayid followed him, kneeling up, shivering and looking at him out of huge, dark eyes, eager but unsure. His hands were balled into fists on his thighs and every few seconds he jerked as if hit by an electric shock

“There is –” Sayid said, “In the first aid kit – do you think burn salve might work?”

Sawyer looked at him, a bit amazed. Here he was, assailed by unknown and potent chemicals, his head all mazy with hallucinogenic lust, his body wracked from having come how many times? Sawyer had lost count. And nonetheless he could come up with burn salve. Sayid was a damned resourceful guy, he’d give him that. He chuckled.

“I think it just might.”

Sayid handed him the backpack, watching his every move with worried eyes as he rooted through it. He shifted restlessly from one side to the other, making a little mewling sound under his breath, then curled forward, his eyes squeezing shut. “Hurry – please,” he whispered.

Sawyer took a good look at him and put the pack aside. He wasn’t going to make it. He came up to his knees beside Sayid and took ahold of his cock. Sayid leaned heavily into him with a grateful moan as Sawyer jerked him quickly, efficiently, trying to get him off fast, because now he was impatient for it, aching to have Sayid inside him, to get something more out of this than what he’d been getting so far.

Sayid came with a moan, his face pushing into Sawyer’s neck, his breath blowing hot against his collarbone, his arms wrapped around his shoulders. He was hot and shivering and he smelled like sex, pungent and musky and acrid and sweet, and the noises he made, sex noises, low and breathless and throaty, made Sawyer want him so much that he wondered if it was possible that he had caught a contact buzz just from touching Sayid.

“Okay,” he muttered into Sayid’s hair. “Okay.” He gathered his scattered wits. Med kit – and maybe a bit of clean up because they were really pretty gross, especially Sayid. There was nothing for it but to use his shirt, they didn’t have anything else. He dampened it with water from one of their remaining bottles and pushed Sayid onto his back on the blanket and wiped him down as well as he could. They were both going to need to go for a swim as soon as possible. He thought regretfully of the hatch shower, but no use crying over spilt milk. The ocean would have to do.

He found the burn salve and unscrewed the tin, then straddled Sayid, whose eyes widened almost comically. Sawyer smiled down at him, unable to help feeling a bit predatory, his stomach knotting in anticipation. Sayid’s hands went to his knees, slid up his thighs, thumbs brushing lightly down inside and it made every inch of his skin come alive, sent want pulsing all along his nerves.

He took a scoop of salve onto his fingertips and reached back, pushing in with two fingers. He bit back a moan because it hurt; it was too much, too fast, but he didn’t pause, just sank down deeper onto his fingers and started working himself open. He didn’t want to wait, couldn’t wait, not one more minute.

He heard a sound and looked up to see Sayid watching him with a look of complete awe and disbelief. Sawyer guessed he’d probably never seen a guy doing this before though, so maybe that wasn’t so surprising.

“You are –” Sayid stammered. “You are –” But apparently he wasn’t sure what Sawyer was, because he never finished the thought, instead he just took Sawyer’s cock in his hand and squeezed, and his thumb pressed just right to send such a jolt through him that he thought he might lose it before they even got started because, Jesus Christ, he hadn’t been this turned on in longer than he could remember.

“Now, don’t –” He cleared his throat. “Don’t move. Wait til I’m – til I’m ready. You have to – _oh fuck_ – wait for me.”

Sayid nodded and Sawyer scooped some more salve and rubbed it over Sayid’s cock, barely registering the way that made his eyes roll back in his head, too focused on what was next, on rising up and getting the angle right, so he could, so he could, yes, so he could sink down, oh, like that, all the way down. Slow, slow, because he hadn’t really taken the time he should have. Sayid’s cock opening him, splitting him in two and filling him so full that he felt it in every cell, every nerve ending, from his toes to the roots of his hair. He groaned, long and low, and it unwound the pain a bit so he could breathe again and open his eyes and look down and see Sayid beneath him, lips drawn back in a feral snarl, wild-eyed and gasping, his skin flushed and glowing, his chest heaving. Sayid was quaking and tense with the strain, but he hadn’t moved, hadn’t thrust, though Sawyer knew it must be killing him not to.

Sawyer bent forward, and he groaned, because that made Sayid’s cock nudge against his prostate, making deep, warm pulses radiate outward, unbelievably sweet and good. He rocked, back and forth, right there, holy shit, right there. Some kind of strangled moaning whimper escaped him, and at that Sayid pushed up, just a bit, just enough.

“Jesus,” Sawyer gasped, grinding down as far as he could. “ _Jesus._ ” He leaned, and thrust and shuddered at how good it was and somehow Sayid was kissing him and his mouth was hot and open and wet, and God, there was no pain anymore, none at all. Now he just wanted more, more and more and harder and, oh God, deeper. His heart was leaping in his chest and his hands were clutching skin and hair and flesh and handfuls of blanket and he was moving, faster, riding hard and it wasn’t gentle or slow but it was good, so good, hot and rough, and Sayid was right there with him, giving as good as he got. Sayid dug his hands into Sawyer’s hips and held him still, planted his feet and thrust up, going deep and Sawyer’s head fell back and he made some kind of noise, something choked and raw. He wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked, his body tightening, everything narrowing down to his ass and his cock and the sharp, spreading, tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach and at the base of his spine and how in just a second, with just one more thrust, just one more stroke, it was all going to fly apart and he was going to explode into a million pieces. It welled up in him, sensation swirling and building until it had to break free, it had to or it was going to kill him and it was going to be so - _oh_ \- it was going to be so – and, _oh God_ , then it did, it broke free and he broke free with it and he was flying into the blinding brightness of pure feeling. Sayid fucked him through it, not letting up, and Sawyer didn’t know what he said or what he did for he’d lost awareness of everything except the rushing pleasure pumping and pulsing through him.

He heard Sayid babbling something and then a loud groan and felt him shoot inside his body, a hot gush that startled him back into reality. He’d never felt that before without a condom to dull the wetness and the heat of it. He hung over Sayid, balanced on one hand, panting and trembling, bright sparking aftershocks racing through him as he watched Sayid’s face and body twist in ecstasy. He’d seen it now a number of times, but it would seem to be a sight that was endlessly intriguing, for he found himself unable to tear his eyes away yet again.

Sayid collapsed with a groan onto the blanket and Sawyer felt the urge to collapse right on top of him, but he held it at bay and instead sat up, shifting his weight back. He could still feel Sayid buried inside him, could feel him with every fiber of his being, hard and occasionally quivering, which made Sawyer’s muscles clench reflexively in response.

Sayid opened his eyes and stared at him and he wasn’t sure what Sayid was seeing. He looked afraid and amazed and exhausted and fucked out and there was still a fiery heat in his gaze that meant that this wasn’t over yet, and Sawyer thought _oh God, I can’t_ and _God, yes, fuck me again_ and he wasn’t sure which of them was more true.

“Are you all right?” Sayid asked, his voice entirely shot, barely more than a scratchy whisper.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay.” He swayed a bit and Sayid reached up and pulled him down on top of him, and even though Sawyer really was trying to avoid anything that hinted of cuddling, the fact was that he felt an overpowering desire to be horizontal, so he let himself be pulled.

They were sweaty and filthy and his come was slippery between them, and the smell of them! Rank and pungent and musky. Sayid was hot and damp, and he was too, and it should have been disgusting, but somehow, as he settled onto Sayid with a sigh, it wasn’t. It was… _animal_. Wild, like the jungle around them, like this island that defied any attempt to make sense of it. Here they were, dirty and stinking, with leaves and twigs in their hair, rolling around on the ground, rutting like beasts and it felt like the most natural thing he’d done since they’d crashed on this Godforsaken rock.

“We’re not done,” said Sayid, pushing his hips up slowly, then drawing out. Sawyer moaned, quiet, but his mouth was at Sayid’s ear, so he heard it. “We can still switch,” Sayid offered.

“I told you, no,” Sawyer said. He had good reasons for that insistence, even if he couldn’t remember what they were at the moment. He propped himself on his elbow so he could see Sayid’s face, look into those blown black eyes. He grinned lazily. “If you still want me to fuck you a week from today, you can come and see me then.”

Sayid just regarded him impassively for a moment, then said, “Fine. Have it your way,” and before Sawyer knew what was happening, Sayid pulled him over onto his side and gave a great heave, and they came apart and then Sayid was scrambling on top of him and Sawyer found himself laid out on his back with Sayid between his legs, pushing his knees up and plunging back in so fast and hard that Sawyer arched up with a stunned gasp, not sure if it was one of pain or delight.

Sayid growled and thrust and shoved, lost in the intoxicating grip of the high again and Sawyer groaned and clutched at him and tilted his hips up to take it and closed his eyes and held on.

~*~

Sawyer had led a life that included a greater-than-average number of mornings-after but, he thought, perhaps none so unpleasant and rife with potential for embarrassment, not to mention danger, as this one.

His head pounded, his body ached in every way humanly possible, and some which probably were not, and he could tell even without opening his eyes that he was perfectly disgusting. His skin itched and stung and his eyes seemed glued shut and his mouth tasted remarkably foul and the smell – it was fucking unbelievable. And he hadn’t dared to move yet, because he was not looking forward to finding out how truly dire his aches and pains really were.

Not only that, but what had woken him from his exhausted if not very restful slumber was the sound of retching, which was never a pleasant thing to wake up to, even when the person making it was not yourself.

He rubbed his eyes, unsticking them, and blinked open, squinting at the bright light of day. It must be late in the morning, to judge by the position of the sun. The people back at camp were probably worried about them and maybe even searching for them, that is, unless they were all distracted by some new brouhaha involving Kate and Juliet and which of them would win the affections of the island’s most eligible doctor, in which case everyone would be running around gossiping and probably wouldn’t have even noticed that he and Sayid were missing.

He really should check on Sayid. It sounded like he was puking his guts out and Sawyer supposed he could be seriously ill. He tried to remember what state Sayid had been in before he’d finally passed out, but the last thing he could remember was the two of them laying on their sides and Sayid still fucking him, albeit pretty weakly and without the single-minded enthusiasm he’d devoted to it for the previous, oh, several hours or so. Time had ceased to have any meaning at some point in the night.

Sawyer rolled onto his side, and oh my God. He managed to stifle a whimper, but coming up to all fours brought tears to his eyes and that pissed him off, but Jesus, he felt like shit. Every time he moved there was a sharp twinge deep inside him and he felt so hot and swollen and raw back there that for a moment he wondered if they’d maybe done some serious damage. But no, he was pretty sure not, just regular wear and tear, as they say. But, Christ, the hike down to the beach wasn’t going to be pretty.

Just as he was bracing himself to struggle to his feet Sayid emerged from the underbrush, looking as awful as Sawyer felt, pale and bedraggled and dirty and… crusty. Very crusty. He was a far cry from the gleaming, enticing embodiment of lust who’d been such a force to reckon with the night before.

“Sawyer,” he croaked, crouching down beside him. “Are you all right?” He reached out, but then his hand just hovered instead of coming to rest on Sawyer’s shoulder and after an uncertain pause, he drew it back. “Are you hurt?”

“I feel like shit. But I’ll survive. I think,” Sawyer said. “You?” He glanced at Sayid and then away.

“The same. The effects appear to have – dissipated,” Sayid said stiffly. “I believe I have recovered.” Sawyer glanced at him again. It was hard to tell with Sayid, but the color had deepened in his face and Sawyer thought he was blushing. “Sawyer,” he said awkwardly, looking at the ground, “I do not know – I am –” He stopped abruptly and Sawyer raised his head to find Sayid looking at him, his expression stony and unreadable. He blinked and looked away, pressing his lips together. Suddenly he stood. “We should return to the beach. They are no doubt wondering what has become of us.”

Sawyer snorted. “If only they knew,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Give me a hand up, would you?”

The walk back was one of the more uncomfortable experiences of Sawyer’s life, both for the physical agony and the monumental tension between Sayid and him. The man barely spoke, and then only to warn him about treacherous obstacles in the path, and when he did it was in a stiff, expressionless voice and without looking in Sawyer’s direction. He did at least stop often to rest. Sayid seemed weak but unhurt, whereas for Sawyer every step made his body throb with pain, from the base of his spine to his knees. Their progress was slow and halting, and more than once one or the other of them stumbled, but the other sensed it in time and was able to put out a steadying hand to catch them before they fell.

If he didn't feel so wretched, Sawyer would be pissed as hell at Sayid's attitude, acting like he couldn't stand the sight of him now that the high had worn off and he wasn't dying for Sawyer's cock. It wasn't surprising that Sayid would have issues about what had happened. It was just disappointing that now that he knew Sawyer swung both ways he was treating him like he was less than human. Well, it wasn't the first time in his life that he'd been treated like shit the morning after. Sawyer sighed defeatedly, then winced as he missed his stride, sending a shock of pain through his insides.

They were exhausted by the time they reached the flat stretch of jungle where they could hear the crash of the waves once more. They stopped to catch their breath. Sawyer didn’t know about Sayid, but he had no desire to alarm anyone into asking questions by staggering out onto the beach on his last legs. It was bad enough that they both looked like they’d been rolling around in the mud all night and stank of God knows what.

“You good with not tellin’ ‘em?” he asked, staring through the trees to where he could see blue sky and the white of sand dunes.

Sayid sighed. “I would prefer we kept it to ourselves. But it is dangerous. People should know not to go there.”

“If we tell ‘em, you know damn well they’ll go.” He gave Sayid a sidelong look. “Don’t try to tell me Kate and Juliet wouldn’t both hightail it up there lickety-split to grab one of those fuckin’ things to shove in the doc’s face.”

Sayid’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile. It made Sawyer feel unexpectedly pleased with himself. “I suspect you may be correct. There are dangers in telling as well as in keeping it to ourselves.”

“More danger in tellin’,” Sawyer stated. “What're the chances anyone else'd just stumble upon it? Not likely. And, well,” he chewed his lip, then met Sayid’s eyes for the first time that day. “It ain’t none of their business what happened up there, Sayid. Ain’t nobody’s business but ours.” The words came out fiercer than he meant them to.

Sayid held his eyes for a moment, and then he nodded and turned, and Sawyer thought he saw him take a deep breath and square his shoulders before he walked away, disappearing into the shadow of the trees in the direction of the beach.

~*~

On the evening of the fourth day after his night in the jungle with Sayid, Sawyer lounged on the beach, watching yet another unspeakably beautiful sunset and thinking about Sayid. He’d been doing a lot of that in the past few days - probably far too much of it - but he couldn't help it. Thoughts of Sayid assaulted him day and night, and no matter how often he told himself that it had just been a case of doing what had to be done and that Sayid hated him now because of it, he still kept seeing flashes of gold-brown skin and blown black eyes and remembering the feel of Sayid’s body, taut and trembling, under his hands and the low, lusty sounds that Sayid had made when Sawyer touched him.

Sawyer counted himself lucky that, despite what he had initially feared, Sayid had not tried to kill him once he fully recovered. Instead, he seemed content to stay as far away from Sawyer as possible, even though they were both occupying the same stretch of beach. Sawyer didn’t really blame him, but he had to admit that it rankled. He tried to shrug it off like he had a multitude of one-night stands in his previous life, but try as he might, he couldn’t fool himself into believing that his long, desperate, strange night with Sayid bore any resemblance to the kinds of easy pick-ups that had made up the majority of his sex life prior to the island.

Sayid bore no similarity to anyone he would have sought out before. He was a stubborn, bossy, uncooperative, serious, superior sonuvabitch who always seemed to think he knew best, and what was worse, most of the time actually did. Plus, he was straight, and he’d never been with a man before, and he’d poked bamboo under Sawyer’s fingernails, _and_ had tried to kill him.

But now Sawyer couldn’t stop thinking about him and reliving moments from that night and remembering the hot, panting weight of that body bearing down on him and the way he moved, lithe and sinuous, all shadow and shine in the firelight, and the way Sayid had looked at him, full of hunger and desire and unquenchable need.

It was bitter to think that Sayid hadn’t really wanted any of it, that even though it had felt real, it had all been because of that fucking poppy. In the normal course of things Sayid never would have looked at Sawyer in that way and have wanted those things from him. That now he probably thought of everything that had happened between them, and of Sawyer himself, with nothing but revulsion.

In the time since they’d returned he hadn’t spoken to Sayid once, so it came as a shock when Sawyer looked up as a shadow fell over him, to see Sayid standing there, looking down at him with the same little scowl and stubborn set to his shoulders that he’d worn the morning he’d knocked Sawyer out, before he and Jack had tied him to that tree. It made a frisson of fear shoot up Sawyer’s spine and he scrambled to sit up straighter, but before he could get to his feet, Sayid spoke.

“May I sit?”

Sawyer squinted up at him uneasily. “It’s a free beach.”

Sayid sat beside him in the sand, resting his elbows on his knees. He smoothed his hair back from his face with a sigh, gazing out at the ocean. Sawyer waited.

“I owe you an apology and a debt of gratitude,” Sayid said, not looking at him.

Sawyer started, looking at Sayid in surprise. Well, that was unexpected. “You don’t owe me nothin’.”

Sayid held up his hand. “Please let me speak, Sawyer. This is not – not easy for me, and I fear, if you interrupt, I shall never be able to –” He took a deep breath. “I must apologize for – inflicting myself upon you in the manner that I did. I know that you realize that I was not myself. Nevertheless, it was wrong, regardless of circumstances. Apologies are insufficient in any case, for what it amounted to was – was r-rape.”

“Now, hold on!” Sawyer said. “I ain’t gonna listen to this, Sayid. It wasn’t anything like that. I don’t know if you remember, but I was willin’. You didn’t force me to do shit. Hell, if anything it was the other way ‘round. You think I don’t know I pushed you into stuff you’d never have done otherwise? And I did it because I _liked_ it, because it got me off. So don’t give me any bullshit about rape, cuz that's not what it was.”

“Sawyer –” Sayid turned to him for the first time. “Sawyer, I forced myself upon you.”

“It was my choice,” Sawyer insisted. “And anyway, it wasn’t your fault. You were under the influence. Don’t you think I know you’d never have done any of that stuff otherwise? I don’t blame you for it. You were gonna go nuts if we didn’t – you know –” he waved his hand in the air. “I chose to do what I did – all of it. You wanna blame someone, blame me. I’m the one who took advantage of you when you were trippin’ your brains out.”

“I cannot agree,” Sayid said. “Do you think that I don’t realize what you did? You tried to – to protect me.” Sawyer snorted. “You did. You would not – when I wanted – you would not let me – Sawyer, you tried to make it as easy for me as you could. Do you think I am not grateful for that? Do you think I do not realize what you could have done to me, what I would have allowed?”

Sawyer felt a flush creep into his cheeks as he remembered thinking _he’d let me do anything_. If only Sayid knew how close he’d come.

“And I hurt you, and I am sorry for that,” Sayid continued. “I should have been more solicitous – in the morning, I mean, but I was having some trouble dealing with what had happened and I – I felt badly about it afterward, when I realized that it probably seemed like I didn’t care.”

“Pssh.” Sawyer rolled his eyes. “I ain’t a girl, you know. I was fine, just a little sore. No harm done.”

“I am well aware that you are not a girl, Sawyer,” Sayid said, and for the first time there was something besides shame and regret in his tone. “Indeed, I have that fact emblazoned on my memory in no uncertain terms.” Sawyer turned to look at him then, and the look in Sayid’s eyes, full of remembrance of what they had done, made his skin heat. “I am going to tell you something that may surprise you,” Sayid said. “I am _glad_ that it was you. In fact, there is no one else that I would rather it have been.”

Sawyer’s eyebrows shot up. “But – but – you don’t even like men. If you’d been with a woman –”

“Oh,” Sayid buried his face in his hands. “It would have been awful. _Awful_. And any of the other men – I cannot imagine.” He shuddered. “I am sorry that it was you, for your sake, but I am grateful for my own.”

“Oh. Well.” Sawyer didn’t know quite what to say to that. “No need to be sorry. It wasn’t exactly a hardship, you know.”

“It wasn’t?” Sayid asked uncertainly.

“You were there. Did it look like I was sufferin’ any?”

“Sawyer, we have never been – close. I cannot imagine that doing that – with me – that it could have been… pleasurable.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t want to freak you out, Sayid, but – it was damned ‘pleasurable’, okay? So don’t worry about me. You didn’t force me, it wasn’t some big, horrible thing. It happened, we dealt with it, it was good, and now it’s over. No hard feelings.” Sawyer kept his voice steady and uninflected, his expression clear.

“Very well,” said Sayid doubtfully. “I shall try to accept that.”

“Good,” said Sawyer. There was a moment of silence. “I really thought you’d try to kill me.”

“What?”

“I figured you’d be so pissed you’d try to kill me. Afterward.”

“That is ridiculous,” Sayid scoffed.

“Well, I sure as hell didn't figure you’d _thank_ me,” Sawyer said.

Sayid stared down at the sand. “Sawyer. If you –” he began, but then he shook his head. “Never mind. I will leave you in peace.” Sayid got to his feet. He hesitated, staring down at Sawyer, but his face was in shadow and Sawyer couldn’t make out what he was thinking and then he turned back toward the camp. Sawyer watched him go, unable to help himself, his eyes lingering on the square set of his shoulders, the swagger of his hips and the curve of his rather spectacular ass. Before, he’d had an occasional horny thought about Sayid, most of them involving holding him down and teaching him to be a little less of an arrogant dickhead. Now, though… now it was hard to think of anything else, and it wasn’t some kind of macho power trip anymore, because now he knew how good it could be when they were both willing and wanting. It was going to take him a long time to forget that.

~ * ~

Three nights later he was getting ready to turn in when he heard a voice outside his shelter.

“Sawyer?”

He ducked out the entrance and there was Sayid, looking nervous but also defiant, standing stiff-backed, with his hands on his hips, as if he was expecting some kind of hostile response.

“Yeah?” Sawyer frowned at him. He had no idea what Sayid was doing there.

“I am here.”

“I can see that,” Sawyer said.

“You said,” and Sawyer caught it then, the faint quaver in Sayid’s voice. “You said to see you in a week, if I still wanted –”

Sawyer took a step forward, trying to see Sayid’s face, because he couldn’t believe his ears.

“What the hell? You’re shittin’ me.”

“No,” Sayid said, sounding a little annoyed. “I am not shitting you. I am here because – because that is what I want. If – if you do.” Sawyer was standing right in front of him, looking down into his face, and Sayid stared unflinchingly back, not looking in the least like a man who was asking for sex. Sawyer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Are you here cuz you think you owe me?” he said angrily. “Is this some kinda twisted attempt to even the score? Because I gotta tell you, that is fucked up and I don’t want any part of it.”

“No,” Sayid’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. “No, Sawyer. That is not what this is about. Please. I cannot forget what happened.” His voice dropped until it was barely audible. “I want more.” He tugged Sawyer closer and reached a hand behind his neck, pulling him down. The touch of his lips was gentle, but it sent a jolt of heat straight to Sawyer’s groin and all of a sudden he was kissing Sayid, bending him back and ravishing his mouth, need and hunger flaring hot inside him. Sayid opened and let him in with a low moan and the sound made Sawyer want more and he pressed harder, licking over Sayid’s bottom lip and then into the volcanic heat of his mouth. He didn’t taste like that exotic spice anymore, he tasted like mango and smoke from the fire and Sayid, and that taste was just as exotic in its way as the taste of the poppy had been. Sayid’s arms were around his shoulders, clinging tight, fingers digging in almost painfully. Sawyer buried a hand in his hair, and the other one that was at the small of his back slid down, splaying out over his butt and bringing their hips together. He grunted when he felt Sayid’s cock nudge against his and thrust forward to feel it again. Sayid was hard, and that meant he really did want this, he wasn’t just saying it, he wanted Sawyer and Sawyer wanted him and, oh God, they really were going to do it again, only this time it would be just the two of them with no crazy, drug-induced urges, and he hoped, oh he hoped that Sayid knew what the hell he was doing.

“You see? That is what I want,” Sayid whispered breathlessly. “I am not made of stone, you know. How could I have had what I had with you and not want more of it?”

“It won’t be the same,” Sawyer warned. “Without you bein’ high. You might not like it.”

“I will like it,” Sayid murmured. His lips brushed Sawyer’s neck and Sawyer shivered. “I have no doubt of that.”

Sawyer could not have been more surprised at this turn of events, but he’d always been quick to adapt, especially when he was highly motivated. And he was highly motivated now, with the thing that he’d been wanting most suddenly here before him, and all he had to do was reach out and take what was offered. Freely offered this time, with a clear mind and forethought and nothing compelling them other than pure, uncomplicated desire.

“I’ll make sure you like it,” Sawyer growled, pulling Sayid close and smiling at the way his eyes widened and gazed up at him, dark and hot. “I’ll make sure you _love_ it.”

“I am sure you will,” Sayid said, with a look so suggestive that Sawyer had the urge to lay him down right there on the sand where anyone could see. But Sayid gently disengaged himself and turned, and with one last look over his shoulder at Sawyer as if to say, _Well? Are you coming?_ , he lifted the tarp and disappeared into Sawyer’s shelter.

And Sawyer looked up at the stars just appearing in the sky and thanked whichever of them were his lucky ones, and followed.


End file.
